


Afterglow

by sunnbunn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Bottom Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is 50, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Will is a Mess, will is 17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnbunn/pseuds/sunnbunn
Summary: Will is a 17-year-old high school student. Hannibal is everything Will wants (to be). Things occur.
Relationships: Matthew Brown/Will Graham, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 26
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

Will's stifled moans are breaking the peaceful 4 AM silence in his parental home. He is only a hormonal teenager after all. Or at least this is what he tells himself every night when his scrolling through adult websites turns into searching for articles on Hannibal Lecter.

Hannibal is a successful psychiatrist, always praised in the media for being a true family man on top of his enviable career. Photographs in the articles never do justice to his sharp cheekbones or his soft lips, but they are always enough for Will's cock to start furiously filling with blood.

It has become a routine. He sloppily licks his right hand and reaches for his member under the duvet where he is completely bare. The beginning is always slow because he is aware that his inexperienced self would not be able to last if he went any faster. After only a couple of minutes, he comes all over his pale, hairless belly.

The wave of satisfaction is always mixed with a lot of guilt because if he searched hard enough, he would see photographs of Beverly, Will's childhood best friend, proudly standing next to her father while he is getting all sorts of awards that Will hadn't even known existed before his infatuation with the older man started. He feels so dirty when the thought of Hannibal being his best friend's father makes his used cock twitch. At this point the only thing he can do is to indulge in his little secret.

The come that was scattered around his stomach is now squeezed between his delicate hand and his hard cock. Thinking about the possibility of being cought getting off to a man three times his age, and a family friend at that, has made his storkes even more manical.

He reaches the climax once again and this time he does not care enough to keep himself quiet. Maybe his parents should know how disgraceful their only son is. With this thought in mind, he falls asleep surrounded by what remained of his sinful act. A warm tear sliding down his innocent looking face may be just a dream.

* * *

The next day at school Will is avoiding Beverly. The guilt has become overwhelming and he is suddenly aware of Beverly's suspectful looks. Some call his empathy a gift (Well, Hannibal does.), but it only brings him a tremendous amount of anxiety, too much to handle for a 17-year-old boy.

“You're acting weird,“ Beverly says as she catches up on him in the hallway.

Will sighs. “I'm always weird, Bev.“

“Yeah, I know. But not like this.“ She looks concerned and Will decides that he is the worst person in the world. Beverly is examining his steel blue eyes. “Did I do something?“

  
He is unbearably close to breaking down in the middle of the hallway, but the bell rings and a relieved “Let's go. We'll talk later.“ manages to leave his mouth.

Will spends the rest of his day at school making up excuses in order to put an end to her worries. Something light and small hitting his chest during one of his lessons automatically brings him back to the classroom. It is a crumpled piece of paper and he instantly looks in Beverly's direction. The expression on her face is intense and it is obvious that she is waiting for him to read the note.

_After school. My place. -B_

Will just nods and smiles as convincigly as he can hoping that the drops of sweat starting to form on his forehead and dampening his chocolate brown mop of curly hair are not entirely visible.

* * *

Of course that Beverly's dad came to pick her up from school that day. Will can only laugh at how cruel the universe is to him.

Doctor Lecter looks elegant as ever while he is waiting for his daughter next to a fairly new black Bentley. Will wonders how the leather seats would feel against his naked skin and it makes his cheeks turn a bright shade of red.

The sight of Hannibal in a black turtleneck and grey slacks is not helping him focus at all and Will can feel his school uniform pants getting even tighter around the crotch. He is desperately trying to shake off the feeling of arousal as he is internally cursing himself for being an overly excited little kid.

There is something both real and terrifying about seeing Hannibal wearing anything other than his usual three-piece attire. He seems human and more than just a figment of Will's despicable imagination. And what scares Will the most is the smirk on the older man's face when he sees Will walking next to his daughter. Dr. Lecter's eyes wander over the boy's body and Will convinces himself that he is projecting his own sick wishes onto the pure middle aged man.

A polite “Nice to see you again, William.“ interrupts Will's overthinking and he finally greets Beverly's father with an improvised smile.

The ride was filled with light-hearted father-daughter chatter and no one expected the young man to join because he had always been a shy one, but for the reasons only Will is familiar with, he felt deeply uncomfortable and the joyous atmosphere was nearly suffocating.

Now that he is alone with his friend, he is waiting for her to break the ice as the coward he is. They are sitting on a luxurios and unexpectedly cosy off-white sofa with golden details. Beverly's humble demeanor often makes Will forget that her home is all high ceilings, theatrical decorations and art pieces that are probably worth more than all of the Graham family assets combined. Hannibal Lecter is some kind of Lithuanian royalty after all and Will despises himself for continously letting the nobleman's perfect image intrude into his thoughts. He will never admit at loud how far from noble the perfect version of Hannibal is in the most twisted parts of his mind.

* * *

“So,“ Beverly hesitates. “You have some explaining to do, Willy boy.“

Will rolls his eyes exaggeratedly to appear less serious. “It's honestly not that big of a deal. It's just… I have a crush on someone I'm not supposed to. And it's fine. I'm not going to do anything about it. It's fine. I'm just a stupid kid."

Beverly starts giggling and Will ultimately looks up at her from the spot on the floor he was staring at during his childlike rambling.

  
“Is it me?“ she asks and Will is not amused. “Oh, shut up, Bev. You know I'm gay.“

“Well, I'm sorry, but I thought you had killed a man or something from the way you have been acting.“ Will is now sure that Beverly is clueless and _tehnically,_ he didn't lie to her so he is pleased with the way the situation is progressing.

“Look, Bev. It's someone older. And married.“

  
“Don't tell me you were looking for a sugar daddy again. It's not safe, Will. You're only 17. There is plenty of nice boys in Baltimore.“ Beverly has always disapproved of Will's obsession with older men. He is too fragile and she is too protective.

Will is extremely grateful for their friendship and at this moment he decides to forget about the lies and tries to open up. “I know that you are right. And I need help. This time… it's different. I have trouble sleeping, eating, breathing… I don't know what to do, Bev.“ His eyes look almost glossy from the tears he is trying to hold in. Beverly immediately goes in for a hug and her care is just enough for him to be able to replace the incoming sobs with slight shivers.

They stay like that for a while, but then Beverly jumps up and startles him. “I have a plan!“ is all she says before disappearing somewhere in the house which is definitely too big for the total of five people who live there.

Will really hopes that her brilliant idea is a lot of comfort food. He craves ice cream. Maybe a simple vanilla or chocolate chip. And then the door opens. Beverly and Hannibal enter the living room. Will is certain that his confusion is blatant because there is a sudden tension in the room.

“So… I talked with my dad and he agreed to schedule a couple of sessions with you,“ she says confidently but it is clear that Will's initial reaction discouraged her.

Each and every panic alarm in Will's body goes off at the same time. “I- There is really no need. I don't need therapy. I'm fine.“

Hannibal's words are gentle and reassuring, almost fatherly, when he says: “You are not my patient, Will. We will merely have conversations.“

“Exactly! Don't worry! My dad is a professional and he knows how to resolve these things,“ Beverly kicks in.

Her enthusiasm is irritable to Will's ears, even though it is not her fault. None of it is her fault. And **everything** is his fault. He did this to himself the moment he chose to mentally violate the oblivious man standing in front of him and then again when he lied about it to his best friend who is now selflessly trying to help out to the best of her ability.

Will accepts the well earned punishment and Beverly's instant cheerfulness makes his resolution easier , but only for a brief moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Matthew Brown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously not how therapy works...

The sound of an alarm clock is disturbing to Will's tired and overused brain and the rays of sunshine, warm, but sharp-edged, are breaching his personal space. Today is the day. Today _was supposed to be_ the day. The bravery he felt in the moment he agreed to the whole charade has drastically worn down and Will selects a new plan of action. He is simply not going to show up to school nor at Hannibal's office in the evening. If anyone asks, he is sick and in bed. Well, at least the bed part will be true. He turns off his phone and does not join his family for breakfast. Seeing his father, lieutenant Andrew Graham, the first thing in the morning will never be Will's conscious decision. He has made it this far due to his elaborate methods of avoiding the man he has been developing for years and look at him now, he is bruiseless and somewhat happier. When he hears the front door close at exactly 8.15 AM, he emerges from his small bedroom to grace his frail body with much-needed nutrients. The rest of his day alone he spends alternating between sleeping and masturbating, a perfect afternoon really, but then a sudden knock on the door forcibly wakes him up from a nap.

“Will, get up. Beverly's dad is looking for you,“ his mother whisper-shouts.

Will takes a moment to recollect, droopy eyes looking up at her in disbelief. “He drove all the way here just because I didn't show up?“

Now his mother is the confused one. “Show up where? What does Dr. Lecter have to do with you?“

Will is already fed up with the hostile interrogation. “I guess he is my therapist.“

“Your therapist? Are you out of your mind? You can't air our dirty laundry to someone who knows us. We have dinner with that man once a month, Will!“

“It was Bev's idea! I didn't even want to go.“ Will is more than frustrated with his mother, the situation and the man who seems to be painfully unaware. “Just let me change my clothes. I'm gonna take care of it.“

There is nothing motherly in her expression when she ultimately responds, “Don't embarrass us.“

* * *

After a quick shower, Will comes downstairs wearing fuzzy tracksuit bottoms and a basic white T-shirt, his hair untamed, and face flushed when he notices how attentively Hannibal is observing him. Unfortunately, he can't bring himself to appreciate it because his head is full of excuses and possible ways out.

“How are you, William?“

The concern in Hannibal's voice is real, but Will is certain that the doctor is not foolish enough to think that he is actually ill. Dr. Lecter is clearly worried because of Will's obvious avoidance of spending time with him.

“I didn't feel well, but I do now. Sorry for not letting you know,“ Will utters, the explanation barely audible and his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. He is not sure if he is doing it on purpose - making himself smaller in front of a man who could be his father.

Hannibal takes a couple of steps forward, cautiously like he is approaching a wild animal, and Will notices that he is carrying a small, plastic container. “There is an old Chinese saying. A good doctor uses food first, then resorts to medicine,“ he says as he offers Will the item. Will takes off the lid to see soup with pieces of meat and vegetables that are too exotic for him to recognize.

“Oh, Hannibal, how sweet of you!“, Will's mother chimes in from the kitchen propping for-guests-only porcelain cups on a silver coffee tray. Her obnoxious way of pretending that she is a good mother makes her son sick to his stomach and the soup very appealing. In the end, Will decides that he is going to leave it for later because a warm, home-cooked meal is not enough to balance out the unpleasantness of sharing space with his parents and someone who acts like he is one.

“I value your effort, sir, but I really have to go now. I've got some last-minute plans.“ He follows the false excuse by leaving Hannibal's gift on the table and putting on a snug winter jacket. On the way out, he mumlbes a goodbye and just before the door closes behind him, there is a sincere “Take care of yourself!“ which makes the outside cold slightly warmer.

Naturally, he does not have anywhere to go. The original plan was to stroll around for some time, but less than half an hour later his nose and ears are purple and his body is aching for a touch of warmth. There is only one place that comes to mind.

* * *

Will finds himself inside a modern apartment building, indecisively gazing at a golden door plate with the surname Brown engraved in cursive. There was a time when he frequently occupied the same spot on the floor with somewhat different intent. He used to need Matthew to be his boyfriend, but now he needs a friend, a friend who is not Beverly or a friend he is not a disappointment to. Matthew was so good to him. No matter how many times Will rejected him Matthew still wanted him, but because of an unknown reason it was never what Will wanted.

After 10 minutes of trying to ring the doorbell with a stare, he finally presses the button.

“I'm coming!“, a familiar voice yells and it provokes a subtle sting in Will's heart that makes him reconsider coming here, but he has no other choice.

He expected a lot of things, but Matthew welcoming him with a tight hug was definitely not on the list, and it is precisely what happened.

The older boy then pushes Will inside, promptly locking the door, and starts kissing his neck and simultaneously tries to undress him. “I knew you were going to come back to me,“ he murmurs between wet kisses and Will's shock does not let him react for a while. Eventually, the high schooler gathers enough strength to break himself free from the muscular arms clutching onto him like there is no tomorrow. “This was a mistake,“ Will mouths while catching breath, still not fully aware of the circumstances. Matthew, visibly displeased, grabs his forearm. “Did you come here to tease me and leave again, huh? Do you think this is a game for me?“

Will's body begins shaking as a response and it is apparent that Matthew can smell his fear and feed on it.

“Hey,“ the ex-boyfriend's tone is gentle, a great contrast to the earlier one and a testament to his unpredictability, “I'm not going to hurt you, baby. I just missed you very much. C'mere.“ And like an obedient boy that he is, Will listens to him.

A small talk and three shots of vodka later, Matthew's fat cock is in Will's mouth while Will is desperately trying to keep his throat relaxed and enjoy it. At some point he lets his mind wander off to a certain older gentleman and with Matthew's angry grunts fading in the background, he concludes that Hannibal's dick must be even bigger. It tastes better, too. It tastes rich and musky and like it owns him. Will wants to choke on it, fight for his life and let Hannibal spill the traces of himself for Will to absorb and keep forever. Just the thought of it makes his mouth water and take the other man's cock with ease. When Matthew finishes, he pulls Will's pants down to politely return the favor, surprised to see him fully hard.

“Look at how excited you are, baby. Why didn't you say that you missed me, too?“

There is no reply because Will just wants to get this over with, get some sort of relief out of this dreadful day. It does not take a lot for him to come and when he does it's with Hannibal's name on his abused lips.

“What did you just say?“, Matthew is back to his feral state from earlier tonight and the smaller boy's face suddenly loses all of its youthful rosiness. “I- Nothing, Matty. It was nothing. I didn't think I said it at loud,“ Will is stumbling over his words and his feet on the way to retrieve his jacket and disappear.

“Forget about it. All of it,“ he shoots in Matthew's direction before slipping out the door, the echo of a growly “This is not over!“ following him all the way home.

* * *

A full week of chasing after Beverly passes and Will is finally sitting in Hannibal's waiting room, nervous and itchy in a knitted, white sweater that his mother made him wear to “clean up a bit for Dr. Lecter's fancy office“. And it is fancy. Perhaps less extravagant than the Lecter mansion, but still something out of an interior design magazine.

Hannibal welcomes Will with one of those smiles that leave the impression that he knows too much and it does not let Will relax so he chooses to roam around the office. Hannibal positions himself in a bulky, leather armchair across an identical one probably meant for his patients. Will refuses to be considered one of them.

“I like the painting, “ Will announces after examining the central art piece on the main wall. It's Picasso's Old Guitarist. He remembers it from art class. “Is it the original?“

“If I tell you, I will have to kill you,“ Hannibal says jokingly and to Will's surprise, it does take some of the tension away. “Do you take an interest in art, William?“

“I like Will better than William,“ he says leaving out that it is due to the way his body reacts to Hannibal using his full name. “I enjoy art more than I participate in creating it,“ he adds after taking a second to compose himself.

“We create art every day. Some are more aware of it than others.“ Hannibal has always had a way with words and they are usually riddled with metaphors so it dawns on Will that he may be talking about sex. With his wife, _of course_.

Yet, in the back of his head, he imagines Hannibal bending him over the massive, hardwood desk and taking him without mercy. Now, **that** would be art and Hannibal would be the artist rearranging Will however he desires to create the most beautiful picture.

He feels Hannibal's strong stare on his back, but he can't possibly turn around and show his reddened and embarrassed face. Instead, Hannibal sneaks up behind him, their bodies an inch from touching, and tenderly grips Will's thin shoulder. “You should take a seat, Will. We are here with a purpose.“

The simple touch brings colors to Will's life he has never encountered before and all of a sudden he is not sure if his and Hannibal's plans for their sessions align anymore. Will is convinced that all he needs is occasional physical contact with Hannibal and he will be alright no matter how many questions about his family and relationships he has to endure in the interim.

And that is exactly what Hannibal continues with. “Tell me about your father, Will.“

“That is some lazy psychiatry, Doctor,“ Will says confidently, making himself comfortable in the armchair.

Hannibal looks impressed. “It is indeed, but you are not my patient. I already know your parents or the version of them they present to me. I want to know your version.“

“You're assuming that I have a father complex because Bev told you about my preference for older men.“

“Beverly would never expose your private life, not even to me. But it seems that I am not far-off with my guess.“

“I don't want to talk about my father.“ Will is not content with the advantage the doctor has in this conversation and with the fact that he essentially gifted it to him in a single careless moment. “And I don't have _daddy issues_ , Dr. Lecter. I've actually been with a guy only a couple of years older than me.“ He knows that he sounds childish in the attempt to be casual. This is a disaster.

“I am glad to hear that. It is healthy for you to develop a relationship with someone appropriate for your age.“

An unwanted realization washes over the younger man. He subconsciously wanted Hannibal to show signs of jealousy and he didn't. Will feels like a complete fool. The only reason why a distinguished 50-year-old man would even care about whom a teenager sleeps with is if it was his job. Will tries to hide his distress from Hannibal's knowing eyes, but silence surrounding the two of them becomes unbearable.

Hushed sniffles coming from the boy change something in Hannibal's attitude. “Look at me, Will,“ he demands.

Will overcomes a flood of tears trying to escape and abides.

“Now, come to me.“

And he does that as well. He is standing before Hannibal with his boyish charm and just enough courage not to back down, anticipating something he can't name. The man still sitting glances over Will's figure and then pats his own thigh suggestively. It takes a moment for Will to realise what Hannibal is asking him to do. He sits on the older man's lap, his legs hanging on one side of the chair and he feels both vulnerable and protected with Hannibal's arm around his waist. Whatever this is, Will thinks it's working. Hannibal is in all probability trying to be a good friend to his family by comforting him, but Will is still thankful.

Will's curls have been resting on Hannibal's broad chest for some time now and the heat radiating from their bodies starts affecting him. This is the first time Will is close enough to Hannibal to be able to smell him properly and the scent is everything, and more. He ponders repositioning himself to feel if Hannibal is as hard as he is, but he doesn't want to overstep any boundries so he decides on trying to remember every detail of Hannibal that he can notice up-close.

Will falls asleep earlier than usual that night, but then a peculiar feeling abruptly wakes him up just before the dawn. He could swear that somebody has been watching him the whole time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New year, new chapter! I promise the next one will be up before 2022.

The same feeling Will had when he was embraced by Hannibal Lecter has been lingering on his skin for days and becoming tangible on lonely, touch deprived nights. Therapy is the best thing that has ever happened to him; he announces it to Beverly about half an hour before the next session with her father. They are in a cafe near Hannibal's office, trying to get back to their routine after a quarrel. Will skipping his first appointment deeply annoyed Beverly, but hearing about the positive impact therapy has had on her best friend is enough for her to let it go. Of course, she will never find out the exact reason why Will is so optimistic now. She knows it's her father's doing , but not to what extent and the guaranteed confidentiality between him and the man gives Will even more reason for excitement about those forty minutes during which he is going to have Hannibal all to himself without any distraction.

Will is Hannibal's last patient of the day, so maybe he will even try to steal a couple of additional minutes with the man whose affection he craves. Or maybe he will manufacture his distress to get what he wants from Hannibal - a warm body to shield him from the world. A couple of weeks ago these kinds of deviant thoughts would have concerned Will, but now he thinks they are understandable, justified even. He doesn't want to live without Hannibal anymore.

“Your hair looks amazing today,“ Beverly unknowingly interrupts Will's train of thought.

He takes a sip of his coffee before answering: “Really? I've been trying out new products for curly hair. I guess they are working.“

“Will Graham, you're becoming an adult. You are going to therapy and you even started styling your hair. Is that a new shirt?“ Beverly teases.

“Um… Yeah, my mom made me wear it,“ Will quickly comes up with a reasonable explanation because admitting that he wants to look good for her dad is obviously not an option.

“You would tell me if you had a new boy in your life, right?“ Their conversation has come dangerously close to the subject Will is not and definitely won't ever be ready to talk about with his best friend.

He smoothly changes the topic to the newest gossip about one of the popular girls from school and it creates the illusion that everything about their friendship has stayed the same. He loves Beverly more than anything and he truly believes that she loves him enough to forgive him if she ever finds out about the exploitative nature of his visits to Hannibal's office. When the end of their coffee date approaches, Beverly smiles at Will sweetly not knowing that she is giving him all the reassurance he needs.

* * *

A big mirror covering the wall in Hannibal's waiting room allowes Will to touch up before their meeting. He puts a couple of unruly strands of hair back in place and checks out his behind in new jeans he's bought specifically for the occasion. Just when he is ready to sit down, Hannibal opens the door letting his patient exit first – nothing you wouldn't expect from a well-mannered individual like the psychiatrist. What Will did not expect, though, was to see his ex-boyfriend standing next to the man of his dreams.

Matthew has surely noticed Will's grimace and that is why he is now sporting a triumphant smirk. “What a coincidence, Willy!“ Matthew says in a way that assures Will that nothing about this is coincidental.The boy's body tenses in apprehension and he hopes that Hannibal is not able to sense it. Hannibal is undoubtedly an intelligent man, but his facial expressions are impossible to decipher, even to the empathetic young man.

Will proceeds to simply nod in greeting, not revealing any of his internal turmoil and making Matthew sure that it is all he is going to get from him.

“Well, I don't want to keep you from doing your thing. Goodbye, Dr. Lecter,“ Matthew turns to Hannibal briefly and then back to Will. “See you around, babe.“ An arrogant wink reaches Will right before Matthew heads out.

“Babe?“ Hannibal repeats the word that doesn't belong in the vocabulary of a man of his caliber.

A loud sigh is the only response Will can manage while marching straight into the office, Hannibal closely behind. “He is my ex-boyfriend. Is this even legal?“

Hannibal's light chuckle instantly eases Will's anxiety. “There is no ethical mandate that suggests that it is not, I'm afraid. However, if it makes you uncomfortable, Matthew will be referred to another therapist.“

“It does make me extremely uncomfortable,“ Will confirms, even though it means that, at some point, he will probably have to disclose the details of their relationship to Hannibal. He recalls the incident from Matthew's apartment - how he said Hannibal's name in the blur of an orgasm - and the man's presence amplifies the feeling of humiliation.

“Then it's settled,“ Hannibal says with a charming smile and Will gives himself the luxury of pretending that it means much more than it does, but it still doesn't have the power to make the sight of Matthew with Hannibal any less unsettling.

“You still seem upset, Will. What did he do to you?“

Something about this question sounds unprofessional to Will. There is a certain amount of darkness that he chooses to equate to overprotectiveness of a family friend, another unwanted reminder of their age difference, but he is willing to take all he can get from Hannibal – even when it shows that Hannibal sees him as a child. He has come to terms with the fact that his attraction to Hannibal will never be requited, but that doesn't mean that he has to completely deprive himself of Hannibal's soothing company and the shelter his strong arms can possibly provide.

Will then notices that they are both still standing in the middle of the room.

“Can I sit in your desk chair?“ he asks with pleading face, shamelessy taking advantage of the situation. The office chair doesn't look significantly cosier than the armchair, but it's a less damaging way of feeling closer to Hannibal than actually trying to achieve contact. According to Beverly, that exact spot is where her father spends the majority of his workdays, writing all sorts of papers and studying the notes he takes on his patients. Will briefly wonders what his notes say. _Does Hannibal write about him? Does Hannibal think about him? Does his mind ever slip into the places it shouldn't, the same places where Will is a regular guest?_

“You're avoiding the question,“ Hannibal's words lie somewhere between a conclusion and an accusation.

Will takes that as a yes and collapses into the psychiatrist's chair. He gently drags his fingertips over the smooth fabric covering the arm rests. Surrounded by Hannibal's intoxicating scent, he imagines that it is what his skin feels like under the expensive suits. The thought encourages him to purposely bite his bottom lip. Since Hannibal is still standing on the other side of the desk, Will glances up at him through his long, fluttering eyelashes searching for some kind of reaction, an emotion that shows that they share similar thoughts – but he can't fathom out if their connection has the same intense effect on Hannibal.

For a second, the older man appears to be interested in the blue eyes and bitten, dark pink lips, but the heat pooling in Will's stomach doesn't let him differentiate between his empathy and desire.

“You are not in the mood to talk today?“ Hannibal asks in the end.

If it wasn't entirely hurtful, Hannibal's dismissal of Will's blatant invitation would be somewhat amusing. Will is aware that ignoring Hannibal's questions is kidlike behavior and a kid is all he's ever been in this 50-year-old man's eyes. Hannibal obviously cares for him in the way one should care for their friends' child. Everything beyond that would be unnatural anyways, even Will can admit that. So, a kid is what Hannibal is going to get.

“What is this?“ Will asks before reaching for a thick, leather notebook with Hannibal's initials on it.

He is already a couple of pages in when Hannibal calmly interjects. “We shouldn't be wasting time like this.“

“But these drawing are excellent. I didn't know you could draw.“

“Will, I'm being utterly serious,“ Hannibal's harsh tone matches the statement. Will is taken aback with how unpatient Hannibal has become all of a sudden. It reminds him of his dad, Matthew and all the other men who have found Will's characther unbearable during his lifetime. Testing limits with Hannibal has always been tempting to Will, but not the ones that would agitate the man who has unexpectedly become important to the high-schooler.

Fear of abandonment urges Will to close the notebook. He stands up from the chair and starts apologizing for the inconvenience of his conduct, simultaneously reminding himself of Hannibal's hug and clinging onto hope that it could be repeated sometime in the foreseeable future. His head, preoccupied with all of that, miscalculates the distance between his body and the desk and Will trips. Trying to hold onto the table top, he grabs the notebook and it ingloriously ends up on the floor with him.

Hannibal rushes to him, full of trouble. “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?“

"The embarrassment pains me more than the actual fall,“ Will says while taking the offered hand to help him get up and Hannibal laughs at that. This is the first time Will made Hannibal sincerely laugh and he immediately decides that it's his favourite sound.

This little encounter makes the butterflies in Will's stomach ruffle their wings, but seeing Hannibal's notebook lying on the tasteful carpet next to a bunch of papers that have fallen out of it because of Will's clumsiness forces him to concentrate. He kneels down and begins taking care of the mess he made while chanting apologies up until he notices something peculiar on one of the drawings he has picked up from the floor. There is a young man whose naked body resembles those of Greek gods and his face is unmistakably a replica of Will's own.

He blinks in confusion a couple of times and almost pinches himself to make sure he is not dreaming. He looks up at Hannibal with wide eyes, the drawing still in his hands and his head inappropriately close to the older man's crotch.

Something that could be identified as mutual recognition takes up the space between the two of them and the silence becomes heavy. Hannibal is the first one to reach out by cupping his large, veiny hands around Will's proportionately small, soft face and slowly making him rise to his feet. Even standing at his full height, the top of Will's head can reach just bellow Hannibal's shoulders. If this indeed turns out to be just a dream, Will wants to make the most of it.

He nuzzles his cheek against Hannibal's hand and involuntarily lets out a sound similar to a kitten's purr. Hannibal replies with a pleased hum in return, confirming his interest in the boy. For some reason the gentleness of their exchange causes Will's cock to rapidly get hard. His gaze searches for Hannibal's bulge and when he sees how huge it is, his mouth waters in want. Hannibal's thumbs are making light circles in the corners of Will's wet lips, challenging him. While maintaining eye contact, Will turns his head slightly and licks the tip of Hannibal's thumb. Hannibal then uses the same trace of Will's spit and smears it over the boy's puffy lips, the touch firm, but sensual enough to make Will close his eyes and moan loudly. He opens his eyes again, seeking for the man's approval. He receives it in the form of a devilish smile followed by: “I can see that you've been longing for this. Is it true, baby?“ The words encourage Will to take the same thumb in his mouth and suck it the way he would like to do it to Hannibal's cock. He hated when Matthew called him that, but he wants to be Hannibal's baby so bad.

“When I ask you something, you have to answer me, “ Hannibal demands.

Will releases the thumb from his mouth with a pop and then nods vigorously. “Yes. It's true.“

“Good boy! I knew that you would be obedient,“ Hannibal praises him while tenderly playing with his curls as a reward which results in mild waves of pleasure creating goosebumps on Will's pale skin.

Will has never known peace like in this moment, but an unforeseen, sharp noise brings it to an end way too soon. In unison, Will and Hannibal switch their attention to the source of the bang – the door that is now widely open. A visibly angry man runs to Hannibal and violently pushes him away from Will.

“Matthew, no!“ Will screams out. 


End file.
